


Two Sparrows

by SwansQuill



Series: God is Dead (but not really) [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale and Crowley Met Before The Fall (Good Omens), Aziraphale can't decide, Aziraphale is Bad at Being an Angel (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley Created the Stars (Good Omens), God Panicked, Heaven, Heavenly Host, Inspired by Music, M/M, Old Married Couple, The Fall (Good Omens), They only asked questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwansQuill/pseuds/SwansQuill
Summary: Though he may have remembered it, Crowley was ready to Fall. Who wasn't ready for it was Aziraphale.My take on the Fall, and also some background info to the information about Crowley and Aziraphale's marriage in Heaven mentioned in another fic in this series. You don't have to read the previous parts of the series, but I definitely encourage it!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens)
Series: God is Dead (but not really) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663582
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title Inspired by:  
> “But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your father knowing it.” Matthew: 10:29. (Also inspired by the title of Mary Doria Russell’s novel 'The Sparrow' and her use of that quote.)  
> “Two birds on a wire/One tries to fly away and the other…” ‘Two Birds’, song by Regina Spektor.
> 
> Also, for those who are hellbent on researching names, know Crowley's angelic name, Kadmiel, has no special or particular meaning, there are just too few acceptable angel names that start with a c/k and have meanings that fit with the very loose angel Crowley was.
> 
> If your interested I am also writing another fic that precedes this one called 'Faithful Only He' that takes place from the POV of Crowley's/Kadmiel's brother (you won't see him in this fic as I hadn't created him when I wrote this). It includes more details about the rebellion and the development of Az and Crowley's/Kadmiel's relationship (including, eventually, their wedding).

It was with great care that he handled the newborn star, and though Kadmiel was not careful he never dared be anything but up there. It flamed warm and bright between his first and middle fingers, a rolling ball of pale yellow whose flares reached out to lick the insides of his fingers which he did not mind. Between his fingers it was as delicate as what would later be called a dried flower petal (but at the time had no name), and should he have wished it he could have easily pressed his fingers just a millimeter closer together and watched as the body of gas roiled and imploded on itself, dusting the space before his nose with discharge and then dissipating again within seconds. But he didn’t want that (and not just because stardust smelled bad, like burnt plastic); this was going to be a beautiful star, an important star.

_“Why here?” He’d asked Her, bemused and a little bit annoyed. Usually he got to make stars wherever he wanted, and that fit his sporadic creative style quite well._

_“Because,” She said thoughtfully, looking not at him but at the empty space in front of them and the bright yellow star about four light years in the distance. “I’m not sure if they’ll be able to make it farther, and wouldn’t it be fun to see what they do when they get here?”_

_Kadmiel shrugged, looking between his Mother and the medium sized yellow star that She seemed to favor (much to his annoyance; Peniel had made that one, not him). He was used to Her talking like this, about these creatures she was going to create, without ever really explaining it to him. He had questions, and mostly she answered them, but when it came to these things she usually said, “I don’t know yet,” so he had stopped asking._

_“Why not just a few light years that way?” He asked again, pointing off to his right. “I’m thinking of putting another one right forward a few hundred light years, and I wouldn’t want the light to be blocked.”_

_“What’s wrong with this one being here?” She asked, turning twinkling blue-black eyes to him._

_Kadmiel tilted his head and stared into the black space just like She had a moment before. “Wrong color. I want it to be red.”_

_She laughed, and it made a little star blink into existence inside of him. “I gave you red hair, not vanity Kadmiel,” she scolded fondly, and he just scoffed. Still laughing, She’d patted him on the shoulder and left._

Of course She’d gotten her way. He’d never _really_ had a choice, in the end. And though it was a bummer (his red star would have appeared to be nearly hugging the side of a nice large blue one from where She wanted to put her special planet), he worked as carefully on this one as he did with all the others, maybe even a little more so.

And it was beautiful. There was little, he thought, that was more beautiful than his stars.

“Kadmiel, dear.” He practically jumped as a pair of arms suddenly slipped around him, squeezing tightly on his waist as a warm breath nuzzled into his neck. In his surprise, the star slipped out from between his fingers, floating away like a piece of driftwood through water and slowly growing as it did until, a mere few million miles in front of them was a full grown star.

“I wasn’t done with that,” he huffed, turning around to face the being who pulled him flush against them and kissed him softly, smiling a bit too wide for it to be a real kiss.

Yes, few things were more beautiful than his stars. Except him.

Aziraphale grinned as he pulled away, blue eyes shining brighter than the star Kadmiel had made for him as he peeked around Kadmiel’s shoulders to check out the star he’d just inadvertently set loose. “Oh well, I think it’s quite lovely as it is.”

“Of course you think so, you always do,” Kadmiel rolled his eyes fondly, pulling Aziraphale closer to him with the arms he’d at sometime wrapped around his neck and into another, deeper kiss. It was enough for them both to stop and forget about the stars for a moment, lost in the feeling of each other that never got old, no matter how many times they did it. _Suck it, Uriel,_ he thought triumphantly every time. Just another time he proved his boss wrong, and Kadmiel loved it.

“Husband,” Aziraphale pulled away, grinning cheekily at him as Kadmiel flushed and groaned.

“How many years are you going to keep saying that like you’re surprised?” the angel forced himself to grimace, ducking his head into the hollow of Aziraphale’s neck.

“Until I get used to it,” Aziraphale laughed, his shoulders shaking slightly besides Kadmiel with the force of it.

 _So never,_ he thought, trying to hide his face that was reddening as he realized how fast his heart was beating. _Still_. Not that he would complain, ever.

Quieting down, Aziraphale started rubbing circles in the small of his back, tsking at Kadmiel as he whined. “Did you forget again, my dear? You know I came to fetch you.”

“For?” the red head breathed, burrowing his face further into his husband’s shoulder. Blankly, he tried to remember what could be happening, but he didn’t get farther than a brief flit through his memory before his mind turned back to how close Aziraphale was.

The angel in question sighed, his chin lifting from the top of Kadmiel’s head as he felt the urge to shake it. “Lucifer’s talk, dear, don’t tell me you forgot. It’s a big day for him.”

“Luci can wait a few moments, Zira,” Kadmiel shrugged, withdrawing slightly but only to kiss Aziraphale lightly on the collar bone. As he trailed kisses up his husband’s neck he felt him shiver, but before he could get any farther than that Aziraphale pulled away.

“Now honestly, you know he hates it when you call him that,” the angel scolded, eyes dropping distractedly for a moment to Kadmiel’s lips as he flicked his tongue out before moving insistently back up again.

Smirking at him, Kadmiel let up, turning away and settling to wrap an arm around Aziraphale’s waist as they both turned to face the newly born star. He squeezed him slightly around the middle, though to his disappointment the angel didn’t even wiggle. “I am being honest,” he insisted, looking ahead at the star. “And - _being honest_ \- I do have to finish this star first.”

“Is it not finished?” Aziraphale furrowed his brow, studying the star with a puzzled expression.

Kadmiel shook his head, biting his lip anxiously. “No… it’s, it’s missing something. I think it’s orbit is a bit wobbly.”

Aziraphale grunted next to him, studying the star just as hard. “Ah, I have it,” he perked suddenly, stepping forward and out of Kadmiel’s grasp to hold a hand out over the star. Pursing his lips, he seemed to search for a moment before curling his hand into a fist. Carefully, he relaxed his grip on the empty space, slowly unraveling his fingers over his other hand to drop an orange-yellow ball - just a shade redder than the one Kadmiel had already made - into his palm. With a shy smile at Kadmiel, he turned to the left side of the existing star and gave the ball of gas in his palm a slight underhand toss, sending it flying out into space. After a few moments, Aziraphale stepped back and examined his work, watching the two stars fall into a tight orbit around each other.

“They’ll look like they’re one,” he said softly, glancing nervously at Kadmiel, who was staring at the stars wide eyed. “From Her planet, that is.”

Slowly, Kadmiel began to nod, gaze completely taken with the sight.

“I should make more of these,” he mused softly, and next to him Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief.

“So you like it then?”

For the life of him, Kadmiel couldn’t have guessed what was making Aziraphale study him nervously, but then again maybe his life wasn’t worth much as it was immortal. So instead of betting that, he gave Aziraphale a wide grin and pulled him in for another quick kiss.

“Like it?” he asked, pressing his forehead against his angel’s before the both of them could get too distracted. “Do you think I just like it, Zira?”

“Well, it did fix that orbit,” the blue eyed angel said softly, chuckling. 

* * *

To Aziraphale’s surprise - and Kadmiel’s amusement - they did not, in fact, arrive late. Only a scattering of angels had already gathered in the square, though new ones passing by as they moved between the office buildings paused and spoke with members of the assembly often, sometimes staying, sometimes not. At the center of it all stood Lucifer, glowing with his own icy light as the morning star as he moved between the loose flocks of angels, laughing and talking and shaking hands animatedly. The crowd swirled around him, like asteroids caught in a suddenly appearing gravity well, and in the short time it took for Kadmiel and Aziraphale to cross the square and reach him the crowd had already ballooned in size.

Still, though, he saw them coming, and with a blinding grin he moved around the other angels to greet them. “Kadmiel!” he exclaimed warmly, and the two angels shook hands as Lucifer wrinkled his nose. “Been out in the starfields, have you?” He chuckled, pulling away as Kadmiel nodded.

“Yep, working on something for Her. Warning, She may want these new experiments to be on _two_ planets one day.”

“And what, we’re expected to cover them both?” Lucifer shook his head, but it wasn’t without affection. Of all of them, he was the closest to the Almighty, and knew Her quirks better than anyone else. Grinning, Kadmiel could imagine what that must be like, used to Her random musings himself with their own limited amount of interaction.

Turning to Aziraphale, Lucifer shook his hand as well, then the two pulled together for a quick embrace. “How can you stand him with the stardust?” He whispered into Aziraphale’s ear, and the angel chuckled good naturedly. 

“Oh, I manage,” he replied, pulling away from the firstborn to glance fondly at Kadmiel, who gave him a quizzical look. Aziraphale just shook his head; _it’s nothing._

“But what’s happening here?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows, looking around at the still gathering crowd around them. “This isn’t something from Her, is it?”

Lucifer shook his head, eyes darkening at the suggestion. “No, no, nothing like that…” he shrugged, then turned to lead the two angels through the crowd until they were standing at the bottom step of the round stage. “I just wanted you two here for support, you know? A lot of the angels take their cues from you, if you haven’t noticed.”

Aziraphale nodded, laughing good naturedly and waving him off. “We’re one star maker and a cherubim among many, Lucifer, you know. If they gravitate towards anybody that would be you.”

“Yes,” the morning star nodded, unfazed by Aziraphale’s praise. “But what is more unifying than the first holy union?”

Aziraphale shrugged, acquiescing and squeezing his partner’s hand fondly, but Kadmiel hesitated. “Unifying? Luci, what are you planning on saying that would require us to unify?”

If Lucifer heard his suspicion, or was annoyed at the use of the pet name that any other angel of Crowley’s rank would never have gotten away with, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just shrugged, turning away from them to march up the steps to the little stage. “You’ll see,” he called over his shoulder. “Just tell people you’re on my side, yeah?”

“If you say so, dear,” Aziraphale agreed, looking slightly puzzled but pulling Kadmiel back into the folds of the crowd without worry as Lucifer turned to speak with some other angels on the stage. Edging to the back of the crowd, he looked over to Kadmiel, who was watching God's firstborn move about the stage with a furrowed brow. “What is it dearest?” He asked, voice soft and lowered so that the other angels couldn’t hear.

Kadmiel frowned, responding in kind, “Don’t you think it’s odd that he needs us here?”

“No,” Aziraphale looked away from him, joining the set of yellow eyes as they watched the angels by the stage. “The Almighty has asked for our help calming the others whenever She makes a decision She fears may be unpopular. Lucifer is probably doing the same thing.”

“But what could he have to say that would be so unpopular he needs us here to back him up?” Kadmiel insisted.

Aziraphale sighed. “Well maybe we should just listen then, shouldn’t we.” He raised an eyebrow, and glancing at him Kadmiel nodded halfheartedly in assent. With only minor bickering, the two of them fell into a comfortable silence as they waited for Lucifer to begin.

There was a bit of shuffling and some last minute bickering between Lucifer and his own friends before the archangel finally got up onto the stage. Flashing a alabaster smile across the crowd, Lucifer spread his arms wide, his voice rippling miraculously loud across the crowd as he said, “Tell me, how many of you have spoken directly with the Almighty?

There was some confused shuffling, and then about half of the angels present raised their hands, confusion emanating from their raised palms like beacons.

After a moment, Lucifer nodded, mumbling something lost to Aziraphale and Kadmiel in the back of the crowd. “Okay,” he continued, loudly again, “And what do you think of Her, those of you who have been graced by Her presence?”

There was some murmuring, hesitation tapping the shoulders of the gathered angels until one of them laughed, raising a hand and saying - just as loudly as Lucifer - “Why, she’s our mother!”

Assent rippled through the crowd. “Yes, she loves us!”

“She tells us what to do!”

“She’s a bit annoying at times!” This one garnered laughter, and even Aziraphale’s eyes crinkled at the edges, though next to him Kadmiel studied Lucifer warily.

“She’s the Almighty, we all know her,” one, Baraquiel, shouted loudly, sounding amused. “She’s odd, and dreamy, and all that is good in the world. She zones out in our meetings and then spends years completely focused on the mathematics of wormholes.” The angels around them nodded, smiling and chuckling good naturedly at their peculiar mother, who knew everything yet zoned out enough that it barely seemed She new more than the average angel. Ethereal and untouchable, wise beyond measure yet as exasperating as a child. All the angels were fond of Her - more than that really, they Loved Her.

 _Luci knows this though,_ Kadmiel thought, furrowing his brow. “What is he going on about?” He murmured.

“Oh, hush dear,” Aziraphale tsked, hands fluttering like they wanted to slap lightly at his partner but weren’t going to bother spending the energy.

Kadmiel opened his mouth to reply, but before he could Lucifer continued. “Exactly,” he said. “She is our Mother, and we all Love her, but many of you who work closely with Her know as well as I how absent minded She is. How She flits from project to project, how She says she cares and then somehow, despite ‘knowing everything’, forgets. I Love Her as do you all, but I worry. She can barely pay enough attention to point us in the right direction, and now She is talking about creating another race, one with free will! Am I the only one who thinks how badly that might turn out, despite Her intentions?”

Next to him, Kadmiel felt Aziraphale stiffen, and the crowd in front of them that had been laughing and humorous moments before had suddenly gone deathly quiet.

Lucifer, however, would not be deterred. “She says She Loves us, yet she makes more of us by the day, as if She is bored. Now, She hand picks her favorite planet and creates Her own special humans. What for? How long will it take for Her to forget us too, like She does our to-do lists, and how long until She gets bored with the humans and moves on from them, leaving them, her defenseless mortal children, all alone? Do you want to let that happen?”

To Aziraphale’s horror, angels in front of him started to nod, whispering worriedly among themselves in a way that didn’t sound like it was concerned about Lucifer. Floundering, Aziraphale grabbed Kadmiel’s hand with his own and turned to pull him away, only to freeze at the look of curious interest in his partner’s tilted head.

Gulping, he hissed, “Kadmiel, we need to get out of here.”

“Huh? Why? I'd like to hear what he has to say.” The angel turned a concerned look towards him, looking down past his red curls like _Aziraphale_ was who he had to be worried about.

“We can’t be here,” Aziraphale repeated, gripping Kadmiel’s hand until the other angel was wincing and pulling him away from the crowd. Shrugging, Kadmiel submitted, and letting go the two of them spread their wings and took off away from the square. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot, or an excuse to write the banter of Crowley and Lucifer as angels? Can't we have both?

“You left my sermon early.”

Aziraphale glared at Lucifer icily. “ _That_ wasn’t a sermon.”

“ _I_ said it, didn’t I?” the morning star huffed, frowning and following Aziraphale around as he went about setting the table for tea (o r rather, the angelic equivalent of tea. No actual matter was involved, but seeing as angels did sit down in a circular manner and sipped _something_ while they socialized it can be called ‘tea’). “That makes it a sermon.”

Aziraphale sniffed but said nothing, just pointedly focused all his attention on miracling up snacks. Then, with a huff, he said down in his seat across from Lucifer and determinedly chomped down on an angelic something.

Frowning, Lucifer sighed and stayed standing, instead leaning on the table and idly preening his wings while they waited for Kadmiel.

When the red-haired angel entered the room he paused, looking between Aziraphale and Lucifer for a moment before shuffling forward, placing a vase of flowers on the table, and sitting down.

“Stole these from the Garden, nearly got my head chopped off by Carmel,” he whispered into his partner's ear, smiling and flushing at the way Aziraphale instantly lit up and ran his fingers over the petals.

“They’re lovely,” Aziraphale murmured back, grinning and pecking Kadmiel on the cheek.

“And they’re just the prototypes,” Kadmiel said, watching Aziraphale’s fingers tracing the flower petals with wonder.

Just then, Lucifer coughed, pointedly sitting down and spreading his hands over the table. Jaw tense, his stare immediately shifted the couple apart. “Kadmiel,” he said firmly, imploring, “What did _you_ think of my talk?”

“Erm…” he winced, glancing again at the looks being exchanged between Aziraphale and Lucifer. Fiddling with his hands and questioning who to side with (his very, _very_ powerful friend, or his love?), he felt the ring She had handed him on his wedding day, and remembered the confusion and outrage on Her face when she approached him and asked how he could love Aziraphale more than Her. “I think,” be began, letting go of his hands, “that it had some things right about it. 'S right and all, what you said about our Mother’s, erm… occasional absent-mindedness…” 

“Kadmiel!” Aziraphale gasped, slapping him lightly on the arm and making him wince anyway. “That’s blasphemous, you can’t talk like that!”

“Oh calm down, Zira, you know that isn’t. Nothing blasphemous about a truth we all know.”

“Exactly,” Lucifer said, nodding. “There’s nothing wrong with pointing out the truth. I Love Her as much as you all do, but you have to admit my concerns are coming from a place of truth. I’m not against Her, I just think we need to reconsider how we run things.”

Aziraphale sniffed, shaking his head stoutly. “And what would you recommend, then, for this new order? Angels running things? _You_?”

“Maybe, I don’t know!” Lucifer snapped, then turned again to Kadmiel.

“There isn’t anything wrong with what we’re doing,” he repeated, ignoring Aziraphale’s huffing. “We’re just asking questions.”

Kadmiel nodded, crossing his arms protectively and pointedly not looking at Aziraphale. “Right, and nothing wrong with that. Have you talked with Her at all? Asked Her these questions?”

“No,” Lucifer shook his head adamantly. “She can’t know about this.”

“You mean you’re keeping secrets from the Almighty!” Aziraphale admonished, sounding nearly scandalized. “That’s _impossible_.”

“Oh please,” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “you know just as well as I do that it's only the big things She has a mind for. She won’t know,” his eyes narrowed, “unless someone tells her.”

Aziraphale stiffened at the insinuation, but Kadmiel put a calming hand on his arm before things could go too far. “Okay, fine. Great job Luci, you’re asking questions. So let me ask one of you. Why focus so much time on us, ask us to support you, when you have a whole heavenly host to convince?”

Lucifer shrugged, glancing down at the table before flitting his eyes back up to meet Kadmiel’s. “As I said, the angels look up to you two. And well,” he looked away again, looking bashful, “you’re my friends. I would like your approval.”

“Well, you’re certainly not getting it!” Aziraphale scowled, standing up suddenly and waving a hand to clear the table. “It was lovely seeing you, _Luci,_ but I’m afraid it’ll be a while yet before we get to repeat this experience. Until you get your head together.” With that, he turned around and left, radiating anger and discomfort at the two angels who watched his back until he had disappeared into another room of the residence.

Sighing, Kadmiel rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, Luci. I’ll see you out?”

The morning star nodded, still watching the empty doorway Aziraphale had disappeared into regretfully before blinking rapidly and turning around. He followed Kadmiel to the door in silence.

“We’re having a meeting at my place after next mass,” he said to Kadmiel in the doorway as he spread his wings out, ready to take off.

“‘We’?” Kadmiel raised his eyebrows.

“Me, some friends, some curious angels.”

Kadmiel nodded. “I’ll be there.”

* * *

Despite Aziraphale’s disapproval, Kadmiel found the meetings surprisingly refreshing.

They weren’t all the zealous anger and heretic ideas that later storytellers would portray them as. No, they were much more friendly than that, a small group of ten or fifteen or so angels meeting occasionally, teasing and complaining about their Mother (for what child doesn’t?), and brainstorming ideas as they joked and played games and preened each other’s feathers. Very little ill will was spoken of, even about Her, and instead, most of the talk focused on positive improvements that could be made to Earth and the heavens and better ways of organizing and communicating with the Almighty and other angels. There was no shame, no anger, no revolution in those early meetings, and indeed every angel that attended them returned home laughing and feeling like _yes_ , they were doing Good, they were helping God.

“I just mean,” said Kokabiel, watching absentmindedly as he bounced a ball of celestial matter off the wall, “we should be helping Her in administration and decision making, you know? It’s a lot to put on one person, and it would be nice to have a little more say. Give Her some advisors, some deputies, that sort of thing, and let them do the everyday decision making and management while leaving Her to take care of the big stuff. That seems reasonable, doesn’t it?”

Kadmiel nodded, murmuring assent along with the rest of the angels as he deftly combed through some of Lucifer’s primary feathers. Speaking up, he added, “not only would it be helpful, but it would be nice to know what’s happening for once! She always makes all these decisions you know, and when you say ‘Hey, that’s odd, what’s up with that?’ She just shrugs you off and smiles vaguely. Tired of it, I am. I like to _know_ things.”

“And we deserve to have some input, it is _our_ world too, after all,” added Lucifer. “Like with this new ‘Earth’ thing. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we have to _serve_ them,” Lucifer’s lips turned down in a sneer. “Sure, I don’t mind _helping_ them, but serving them? Her firstborn serving an experiment? It isn’t right! I don’t want that, and I think she should have discussed it with us first.”

There was some loud agreement and comment on this, one angel even laughing, “Yes, of course, you wouldn’t want that Luci! You’d rather be king and wave a high and mighty staff over us all, wouldn’t you?”

This created raucous laughter, even within the small group, the angels all laughing at the ridiculous idea. Kadmiel laughed too, only hesitating when he saw the gleam in Lucifer’s eye that accompanied the suggestion.

Silence followed as the angels recovered, though the gap was quickly filled with muttering and the sound of grooming feathers. Finishing Lucifer’s top left wing, he moved down to his middle wing and started combing through the already impeccable primaries.

“So Kadmiel, when is Zira going to come to one of these meetings, hm?” An angel, Gadreel, asked, winking at him. “Never seen you without him except in these meetings.”

Wincing, Kadmiel shook his head, pointedly not looking at Gadreel. “Probably never. He doesn’t agree with our, erm, _policy reforms_.”

“You mean he’s afraid to question Her!” another angel sniffed, raising their eyebrows.

Kadmiel shook his head. “No, no, not afraid. But he’s always Loved Her very much, and they became especially close throughout the whole marriage thing. He can’t see any wrong in Her, is all, and thankfully I’m glad he can ignore both our deficiencies.”

The laughs of the room vastly outperformed his own small smile at the comment, several angels nodding and one even agreeing “It’s a miracle you’ve been able to hold onto him this long.”

“Mhmm, don’t remind me,” Kadmiel laughed, “and especially not him.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Zira will go wherever you go, Kadmiel. It’s painfully obvious.”

“Right.” Kadmiel scoffed over his smile, and then Kokabiel’s ball hit him in the head and there was a riot over blame that quickly switched into a debate about whether it was possible for an angel to break God’s rules, and if so, how would you deal with it.

A question which they soon found out the answer to.

* * *

On the day of the first trial, Heaven started their calendar, so that they could say the Fall began on Day 1 of the Year 1 - 1.1. Everything before then was 0, because everything before then was perfect, and why count perfection?

So Azazel fell on the date 1.1, at about midday, in the same public square that Lucifer had given his first speech in. In the same public square that Aziraphale and Kadmiel had gotten married in, which Kadmiel remembered when Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him tightly and held him close as he watched, numb and horrified.

Azazel deserved to be on that stage, that they all agreed on - whether they were of the now substantial group gathering around Lucifer or not. The Almighty had come to him with a special project, asking him to make a new animal for her, and instead of doing what she had asked he had made the mosquito. Its skill, he'd said, was carrying infections that would kill off the weakest of the humans. According to the angels that had seen it, She had stood there silently, shocked, before tears began to fall from Her eyes and she walked away, looking horrified and deeply, deeply confused. She told Lucifer to hold a trial for him the next day, for the mosquito would indeed kill millions of humans, and as angels gathered in the square She had not yet made another appearance. Since no one knew where She went when she disappeared, Lucifer could not fetch Her, only stand solemnly on the stage talking with Azazel, whose wings were tied behind him.

The plan wasn’t originally for Azazel to Fall. Lucifer started the trial solemnly, standing in front of Azazel with his hands up to silence the crowd. When he spoke, it was a murmur, only barely heard via Heaven’s automatic amplification.

“Today, we saw for the first time one of our brothers defy the divine law, a feat we had never before thought possible. Worst of all, he did so not out of misguided Love, or foolishness, or a mistake, but with the purposeful intent to hurt Her new creation, the humans. This,” Lucifer paused, grave face wincing, “can not be allowed. So today he will be tried for his defiance, and She and the Heavenly Host will punish Azazel, our brother, as he is fit to be punished. But remember-” he held up his hands again, quieting the parts of the crowd that had thought him finished and started shouting, “-this will be done _justly_ , and _fairly_ , for he is still our brother, and his crime can be forgiven. We maintain ourselves, and stoop not low to swing at him but stay standing tall to help him up.”

And so the decision was made to remove one of Azazel’s pairs of wings, and demote him. The angels voted, and though sombre at the damage done to the angel that had been one of the first to join him, Lucifer looked pleased with the smoothness of the democracy. So nodding grimly, Michael handed him a divine blade and Azazel was set on his knees, where Lucifer embraced him. When Azazel looked away, refusing to meet the morning star’s gaze, is when Lucifer finally stood up and held the knife to the shoulder of Azazel’s uppermost left wing.

“As a reminder of kindness, and what happens to those who strike out of fear and bitterness,” he said solemnly, and the angels all repeated it, a cacophony of ‘kindness’s and ‘reminder’s and ‘Oh Lord’s.

Then, without warning, the stage shook, and Lucifer and Michael stumbled backward, nearly falling off the stage. As they fell, Azazel tried to stand up but was knocked down again, and then just as he was getting on his knees and the angels around him were starting to come to help the ground opened up beneath him, and he screamed and tried to hang on to the edge of the hole until the shaking tore his fingers loose and they all lost sight of him.

It took another minute for the hellish screams to fade, and another for any angel to dare shift a feather. The tears that had started to weigh Kadmiel’s eyes froze, and Aziraphale gasped loudly, and then they too were silent.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How close did Aziraphale come to Falling?

Over the next few days, four more angels fell, their screams and the sounds of their wings burning reverberating through Heaven. Every single one was from Lucifer’s inner circle.

“God has spoken,” Michael announced one day in an assembly of everyone she called the ‘loyal’ angels. Aziraphale stood again at the back of the crowd, anxiously fiddling with his hands in Kadmiel’s absence. “The angels that have joined Lucifer are defectors, and the Almighty wants them out. To let them remain would be to let the illness of ‘sin’ infect us all. We must cut out this plague.”

It was a new word, sin, and the swords the cherubim were handed were all new things. The angels held them uneasily, flocking close to their friends for comfort, not truly understanding the words like ‘fallen’ and ‘sin’ they were using. They sounded like quotes on Aziraphale’s tongue, hastily pasted into his dictionary, and they quickly fell off the moment he got home and found Kadmiel muttering over an arrangement of flowers.

“Hello, dearest,” Aziraphale sighed, doing his best to slide his new sword discreetly around a corner (or as discreet as a huge metal sword could be).

“Zira, thank heaven, I need some help,” Kadmiel grinned, waving Aziraphale over. Easily slipping in next to him, Aziraphale blinked at the vase of flowers in front of him.

“What’s this?”

“It’s for Kokabiel,” Kadmiel said gravely. “Penemuel Fell yesterday, he’s taking it hard.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said softly, staring wide-eyed at the flowers - so colorful against the bright blankness of Heaven.

“So, what do you think?” Kadmiel asked, jerking Aziraphale back into the present with a hand on his arm.

“It looks absolutely lovely, my dear.”

Kadmiel pursed his lips, “I don’t know… something seems off.”

_ The entirety of Heaven seems off,  _ Aziraphale wanted to say, but instead, he stretched a weak smile and wrapped an arm around Kadmiel’s waist, resting his head on his shoulder. “You’re just a perfectionist. I’m sure Kokabiel will love it.”

“If you say so,” Kadmiel shrugged slightly, though not enough to dislodge Aziraphale from his shoulder. Sighing, he shifted around to face his partner and pulled him in close for a hug. “How was that good-angels only meeting?” He murmured into Aziraphale’s hair, chuckling slightly at his own self-deprecating joke.

To his surprise, Aziraphale winced, stomach dropping as he held on tighter to the other angel. “Kadmiel, Michael said…” he gulped, burying his face in Kadmiel’s neck, unable to look at him. “We need to go somewhere.”

“Go somewhere, what do you mean?” Kadmiel pulled away, just far enough to look Aziraphale in the eye. “Zira, you're- Where would we go?”

“It isn’t safe here anymore,” the angel said urgently, voice dropping almost like he was afraid to say it. “The other angels, they-”

Suddenly, there was a scream outside, and freezing Aziraphale felt himself being pulled by the hand as Kadmiel ran towards the door. Wrenching it open, the two angels stopped dead at the sight.

Baring a flaming sword, the cherubim Uzziel stood glaring down at Balel, sneering and pointing their sword threateningly at the other angel’s chest. Balel laid on the ground, as if she had tried to scramble backward, but been frozen and was instead reduced to trembling on the ground at her fellow angel’s feet.

“Please, please, don’t do this,” they shook their head fervently, sobbing and staring upwards, wide-eyed.

“It must be done,” Uzziel said somberly, taking a step forward and raising their sword. “She has spoken, those who have betrayed Her must die.”

“I d-didn’t betray Her, please, please Uzi- Uzziel, I’m an  _ angel _ ,” Balel insisted, their words slurring and stuttering as their cries turned into full-on panic. But Uzziel just shook their head, frowning down at the angel as they dropped their sword down into her chest.

Gasping, Aziraphale clutched with a death grip onto Kadmiel’s robes as Balel’s shriek was cut off, replaced with the near-silent sound of golden ichor bubbling from her chest. Under his grip, Kadmiel stiffened, his unnecessary breath catching.

In front of them, Uzziel stepped forward and wrenched out their sword, miracling off the ichor and turning around. They eyed Kadmiel coldly, but glancing at Aziraphale didn’t make a move. “Let that,” they nodded at the body, “serve a warning. We all know what you’ve done.”

Then they spread their wings and flew away. Aziraphale fell to his knees and sobbed.

* * *

There were, of course, sympathetic angels, and gravely Carmel hid them and a few others close to Lucifer deep in the Garden, where few angels but them and their assistants ever bothered checking. Just to be safe, Aziraphale also brought his new sword.

“They gave you a  _ sword _ ?” Kadmiel gaped, the s in his last word nearly a hiss as he eyed it warily.

Nodding tightly, Aziraphale carefully propped it up on a nearby tree. “All of us cherubim have swords now, yes.”

“For killing us,” Kadmiel gritted out, staring hatefully at the blade. “For killing angels.”

Again, Aziraphale nodded. “But I won’t use it for that, just to protect us,” he insisted, walking back to Kadmiel and wrapping his arms around him comfortingly. “I promise, I couldn’t use it for anything else.” He gulped, giving Kadmiel a peck and peering up at him questioningly.

To his relief, Kadmiel nodded, looking away from the sword. “I know.” His voice was soft, and he kissed Aziraphale lightly, his thumb stroking away his tears.

Behind them, somebody cleared their throat, and the two broke away.

“Is that a goodbye kiss?” Lucifer said, watching the two gravely. It escaped no one’s notice that his voice was rough, eyes nearly as red as Kokabiel’s, who stood, face tear-streaked, behind him.

“No,” Kadmiel said firmly, wrapping an arm around Aziraphale and pulling him flush against his side. “Aziraphale and I are hiding here.”

Nodding, Lucifer approached them and the two angels sat down wearily against the tree.

“What’s with the sword?” Kokabiel said, eyeing it with suspicion.

“Protection,” Aziraphale said. The other angels nodded, and not letting go of each other the two lovers said across from their tired friends.

“Where are the others?” Kadmiel asked finally, face blank as he watched Lucifer.

The morning star hesitated, then said honestly, “I don’t know. A lot are dead. A lot have Fallen.”

“Do we know what happens to the Fallen?” Aziraphale asked meekly, voice quiet like he almost hoped Lucifer wouldn’t hear him.

But he did, and the angel shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think they’re destroyed, though.” Aziraphale sagged against Kadmiel, nodding silently.

They sat there for a long time in silence, resting against the trees and each other, listening to the muffled sounds of fighting and angels dying just outside the garden. Then, after one particularly loud screech, Lucifer grimaced and stood up.

“I have to go out there.”

“No, no you don’t,” Kadmiel said firmly, but the angel didn’t listen.

“Keep the sword on hand. I’ll be back.” And then before anyone could protest he had flown away, and nobody dared say anything.

The morningstar returned four times, each time with more ragged and bleeding angels fleeing the fighting. Then there was a boom, and every one of the angels of the Host felt it as Her firstborn Fell. The fighting was silent for a moment, and then when it returned twice as loud the hiding angels let themselves cry.

“We’re all going to Fall, Zira,” Kadmiel murmured, leaning exhausted onto his angel’s shoulder.

Aziraphale shook his head, swallowing heavily. “No, no, not you. She won’t banish you.”

“Yes, She will.”

“No, She won’t banish any of you,” Aziraphale said loudly, looking around at the ten or so angels sagging in a ragged circle. Stiffly, Aziraphale stood up, walking over to the tree and taking his sword. Then he returned to Kadmiel and laid the sword across both their laps. “It is the Host that is doing this, not Her,” he said firmly. “And I’ll protect you from the Host.”

“It isn’t angels that are making us Fall, Aziraphale,” Kokabiel croaked, blinking rapidly at Aziraphale like they were struggling to keep their eyes open.

Aziraphale pursed his lips but didn’t answer. Just wove his fingers through Kadmiel’s and gripped him tightly.

* * *

They stayed there for three days until the sound of the fighting dimmed down. With sighs of relief, the angels stood up and stretched, murmuring among themselves in rough voices and staring hesitantly at the bits of Heaven’s light that poked through the trees.

“We should go home,” Aziraphale said, and Kadmiel nodded. Together, they started off, then froze as behind them there was a scream, and by the time anyone could shout and they were able to turn about Kokabiel was gone, the molten hole they had fallen through already closing in on itself.

“Kadmiel,” Aziraphale whispered, holding tightly onto his husband’s hand.

“Aziraphale,” the angel replied, but it sounded more like sorry as one by one, five more angels Fell.

“God is clearing us out,” Gadreel said meekly, staring at the latest hole as it closed up. Kadmiel nodded, and feeling a rock lodge itself in his throat Aziraphale lowered onto his knees, bringing Kadmiel down with him and gripping him tightly. The two said nothing, Kadmiel just bringing Aziraphale into his lap where the blond angel hid his face as Gadreel flew away, only to fall in the distance as his wings caught fire. Then two angels ran away on foot, and the remaining two clawed at the earth until their fingers slipped loose and they Fell too, screaming.

It was only the two of them left, and feeling the ground loosen under him Kadmiel nudged Aziraphale off his lap and helped him up before stepping away.

Wide-eyed and panicked, Aziraphale shook his head desperately. “No, no, Kadmiel, you’re not going to Fall.”

“Yes, Zira, I am.” His voice was soft, but firm, and the resolution in it terrified Aziraphale, who hated himself for the tears that insisted on flowing faster down his face.

“You don’t have to, you can stay. I know you Love Her, that’s all it takes. Just stay, please please…”

Shaking his head, Kadmiel hushed Aziraphale, wrapping his arms tightly around his shaking form as the angel approached him. “I can’t,” he murmured, pressing his forehead into the angel’s. “I can’t. I can’t be an angel anymore.”

“Why not?”

Kadmiel’s stomach hardened, and he looked away. “I can’t be a murderer. I can’t live with them.” He dared to look up, meeting Aziraphale’s eyes. “Can you?”

“No,” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed, “but-”

“Come with me then! Luci is making something down there, I can feel it. We’ll be free.”

“No, I-  _ no _ !” Shaking his head, Aziraphale pulled away, wrapping his arms around himself. “You’re betraying  _ Her _ , Kadmiel! You can’t do that!”

“So you really want to stay?” His voice was soft, edged in disbelief.

Aziraphale hesitated. “No, but I…” he shook his head. “I don’t want to go either.”

“Well that isn’t possible, Zira,” Kadmiel sighed, frowning, “you know that.”

“I know.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, and then Kadmiel felt the dirt under him grow loose again and a faint burning start on his wings. Sighing, he stepped forward again and cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “Come with me, Aziraphale,” he said, pleading.

“Don’t make me choose.” Aziraphale was sobbing by that point, shaking and gripping tightly onto Kadmiel’s wrists. Heart twisting, Kadmiel shook his head, kissing the angel one final time before stepping backward.

As sparks started appearing at the edges of his wings, he smiled softly. “I love you both, remember?”

“No,” Aziraphale’s head blurred as he shook it, shaking almost as much as his body as he leaped forward, dropping to his knees and reaching out into the hole that opened to swallow Kadmiel. But he was too late, his fingers barely brushing his husband's as the Falling angel hurled downwards, trying not to scream as Fire burned him inside and out.

He was the only demon not to scream as he Fell, but that was okay, because Aziraphale screamed for him, and when Crawly looked up the falling holy tears burnt slits into his eyes.


End file.
